“I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, “Kiss me harder,” and “You’re a good person,” and, “You brighten my day.” I live my life as straight-forward as possible. Because one day, I might get hit by a bus. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands. And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care. We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans. We never know when the bus is coming.”
Reblogging myself because… what was that? Five minutes?
O_O
………my friend has made me curious
help me roger
Update: after I reblogged this someone messaged me offering me tickets to the sold out Hausu screening with a Q&A and autograph session with the director
These never work for me, but here’s to trying.
I don’t believe in these things
But last time I reblogged one ten/fifteen minutes later I got a call offering me a job
But I reblogged it because I was waiting on hearing back from the job. So there you go.
“Sadness is nothing new to me.
It becomes a routine, a ritual. But you are so loved, you are so loved. It’s an emptiness I can’t describe.
A hollowness that persists no matter
how much of me is filled. Why aren’t you happy? Why aren’t you happy? I start to hate all religions.
I burn all altars, destroy anything that resembles
forgiveness,
salvation.
After all,
what kind of cruel god would let a pain like this exist?”
